I've been married for almost 17 years, diagnosed BP about 7 years ago. I have an 11-year old. I say all that to show that my family knows what life is like when I am unmedicated.

Whenever it comes time to fill my scrips, I get questions from the husband - How much is that one? Can't you use the generic? If the generic doesn't work at the same dose, maybe she can prescribe the generic at a higher dose. Do you have to fill it today?

I just don't understand how he doesn't hear me when I tell him that those comments make me feel worse. When I hear that I think "screw it, I'll just get off all the meds and see what happens." But I know what will happen. The doc and I tried weening me off the AD to see if Lamictal/Abilify cocktail would be ok on its own. I cried at everything, felt hopeless, very sunk in despair.

There are days when I think "why can't it just be all over?" To quote Harry Potter, "I don't want to play anymore." I know that sounds suicidal, but I am not considering taking my own life, just wondering why I have to still be alive.

Then I look at my daughter and don't want to do to her what my father did to me - he committed suicide 20 years ago. I feel... I don't know, responsible for his death. He and I had a strained relationship, and I hadn't spoken to him in almost 3 years when he died. I almost called him 10 days before; I knew he was working through his issues, I knew he wanted to repair our relationship, and I couldn't dial the last four digits of the phone number. I'll live with that regret the rest of my life. People tell you that "you" couldn't make a difference, but then they turn around and tell you that you never know that "to the world you are one person, but to one person you may be the world". Maybe my phone call would have at least put it off long enough for him to get help? At least I could have said to him "I love you". I don't want my daughter to feel this.

So, how do I get my husband to wake up to this?? He's got anxiety issues - if I showed him this post he would freak and probably try to have me hospitalized (and then hurry me up to get better so we didn't run out of money.) Do I yell, scream? Or, do I just realize that until I get on the right cocktail I'll hear it every month, and then once I'm on the right cocktail every 3?